A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
by Chillmaster3000
Summary: Sam's got a skeleton in his closet, one he's trying to deal with on his own. When he meets Dr. Spencer Reid, he rethinks that idea. But what happens when a photo of the two of them makes its way to C.J. with all the wrong context? WARNING: mentions of rape/molestation


Sam waited for the lecture hall to clear out. He hung by the front row as another straggler conversed with the lecturer, a Dr. Spencer Reid. Sam was lucky in that the other straggler found Dr. Reid to be completely oblivious to her attempts to flirt with him. She gave up and walked away. Dr. Reid looked at Sam, who felt a sudden rush of anxiety. He tried to quash it as Dr. Reid spoke.

"Can I help you with something, sir?" he asked.

"Oh, um, I just wanted to congratulate you on uh, on a job well done," Sam said. "You were very good up there and the information was spot on, just ah, very…accurate." Dr. Reid gave Sam a curious look. Crap.

"Thank you, I guess…are you a psychologist or-"

"I work at the White House," Sam said before he stopped to consider the implications. Double crap.

"And you're interested in learning about child molestation?" Dr. Reid said dubiously. "You said I was accurate…"

"Well, I uh, have researched this kind of thing, yes, and I just um, thought, I just thought what you said about the lasting impact was extremely…accurate," Sam said, voice trembling. Dr. Reid nodded. Sam wondered what that meant. He waited for Dr. Reid to say something, any indication of his next move.

"Do you want to grab a coffee and talk?" the doctor asked. Surprised, Sam nodded. "Okay. Let's go." Dr. Reid gently took Sam by the wrist, slender fingers encircling the cuff of Sam's sleeve. The touch was soft, as if the other man thought Sam fragile, something to be treated with great care. Sam bit his lip at the idea. People usually just grabbed him and dragged him along wherever they were headed off to. They never seemed to stop and think that maybe, just maybe it bothered Sam to be pulled along. They never wondered if maybe the rough gesture would terrify him for just an instant before he could remember that they weren't going to hurt him.

Dr. Reid began leading Sam away slowly. He looked at Sam and watched him closely, his brown eyes betraying wisdom beyond what his boyish haircut and sweater-vest would imply. Dr. Reid knew. Sam hadn't said very much at all, but Dr. Reid knew. That should have bothered Sam. It should have. But it didn't. Instead, Sam felt almost relieved.

"And that's all for today, folks. I will see you bright and early tomorrow at the seven o'clock briefing," C.J. said. The assembled reporters began to disperse. As usual, Danny followed C.J. back to her office. She sighed. Danny just couldn't give up, could he?

"C.J., we gotta talk," he said. She went to her desk and sorted through the piles.

"Danny, I have told you several million times that I don't want to flirt with you," C.J. said.

"That's not true and you know it, but that's not why I'm here," Danny replied. "You have a problem."

"A problem? A problem with what?"

"Sam," Danny answered. C.J. looked up from the paper mess, throat suddenly dry. What now?

"Why do I have a problem with Sam?" she asked slowly. Danny pulled a square paper, a Polaroid, from his pocket and handed it to C.J. She took it to see Sam at a table with coffee and another man. This all would have been fine if the man wasn't holding Sam's hand. Oh, God, why was it always Sam? Did he have some unending need to be in sexually controversial positions? …Okay, that sounded so weird when she thought twice…C.J. tore her gaze from the photo.

"Where did you get this?" she said. Danny shrugged.

"Can't tell you. What I can tell you is everyone has it, and you're gonna get questions about it. So you gotta get on top of it before someone else does."

"Thanks, Danny. You know I'm stupid and couldn't figure that out," C.J. snapped. Danny held his hands up in surrender.

"Hey, hey, hey! I'm the good guy, I warned you. I brought you the photo, didn't I? Don't kill me." C.J. sighed. For all his dogged pursuit and attempts to be a muckraker, Danny was a very good guy. A very good friend too, Sam's before hers.

"Yeah, I know." She threw the photo on her desk. "Thanks, Danny. I mean it."

"Don't go telling anybody I did this. I could lose friends," Danny said. He walked away and C.J. sighed again.

"Carol! Get Sam in here!" She sat at her desk and resumed sorting. Less than three minutes later, Sam was at her door. As always, he was energetic and bright, clearly trying to do several thousand things at once.

"You wanted to see me, C.J.?" Sam said.

"Close the door, Sam." He sobered instantly, the same way he had when C.J. found out about the call girl.

"That usually means something bad. Has something bad happened?"

"Close the door, Sam," C.J. repeated. Sam obeyed. Then he stood there, looking for all the world like he was about to be whipped. C.J. wanted to roll her eyes. Sam acted like a child some times, which could be amusing or irritating. Whenever he was in trouble and knew it, Sam would automatically take the role of the child who really didn't mean to break the lamp and was more upset than Mommy was.

"What is it?" he said in a small voice.

"Sit down. You're not in trouble," C.J. said. "Yet, anyway." The penitent expression didn't leave his face as Sam took the seat across from C.J. She didn't like scolding him. She always felt like she had kicked a puppy, but what was she supposed to do?

"Danny gave me this," C.J. said. She pushed the photo to Sam. He looked at it and was quiet. C.J. waited. She glanced at the other man in the picture. He was skinny and very young. His sweater-vest made him seem even younger than the long brown hair tucked behind his ears and beautifully carved cheekbones would suggest. Unfortunately, that didn't help the scenario much.

"You want to know who he is," Sam said finally. His face had darkened substantially; gone was the five-year-old, giving way to a set teenager unwilling to betray any information. Great, now C.J. would have to deal with adolescent Sam.

"Well, yeah. If Danny's got it, so does most of my Press room."

"You don't need to be worried. He's no one." C.J. arched an eyebrow. Yeah, she was really gonna believe that. Who did Sam think he was fooling?

"No one?"

"Yeah, I don't really know him. Olausen was double-booked a few weeks ago, so I took a later appointment. When I was waiting, this lecture caught my eye. I stopped in, listened, and afterwards I had coffee with the lecturer. It was nothing," Sam relayed. His blue eyes connected with the picture, not hers, and his speech was too fast.

"So he just randomly held your hand?" C.J. said. Sam shifted in his seat, still avoiding her eyes.

"Well, uh, we started talking and there was something that upset me, so he, uh, just wanted to help. It's nothing, really," he maintained.

"If it's nothing, why are you so nervous?" C.J. replied. "What aren't you telling me, Sam? Is he your boyfriend?" Sam's eyes widened as they flew up to meet hers.

"No! Of course not!" That was true, at least, a small relief. Still…

"How long have you known him?"

"I told you, a few weeks," Sam said. That seemed honest, too. Then what…

"Why was he holding your hand?"

"I was upset! But it was nothing!" Okay, that was false, if only the last part.

"It doesn't look like nothing! It looks like the two of you are sharing an intimate moment! You have to tell me what's going on here, Sam! I don't care if you're gay, but I have to protect the President, and I have to protect you! So tell me what the hell is going on! What happened?" C.J. demanded. Sam put his head in his hands. C.J. clenched her fists and got ready to shout again when she realized Sam was shaking. His breathing was starting to get loud and ragged. C.J. stood and went to him.

"Sam?" she said cautiously. "Sam, are you-" She tried to put a hand on his shoulder. He jerked away with a gasp. Holy crap.

"Don't touch me," Sam rasped. He was starting to hyperventilate. C.J. backed away. Suddenly very afraid, she went to the door. Somebody had to know what to do, right? Somebody like…Josh! Josh was walking by when she looked out. Thank God!

"Josh!" He looked up.

"Yeah?" he said.

"Get in here!"

"I have-"

"Get in here!" C.J. said again. Josh must have seen that something was wrong, because he came over as fast as he could without drawing too much attention. C.J. pulled him inside. Josh saw Sam and glared at C.J.

"What did you to him?" he asked.

"I got loud, that's all! He wouldn't answer me!" C.J. said. "I didn't know he was going to…freak out!" Sam slid out of the chair and curled up, still shaking. Josh flew over. He didn't touch Sam, but put hands on the desk and the chair, effectively encircling Sam. C.J. realized this wasn't a new event for Josh. Which meant it was old news for Sam, too. What else didn't they tell her?

"Sam, Sam buddy, it's Josh. You're okay, everything's fine," Josh soothed. Sam's shaking increased.

"But I-I-"

"You're fine, Sam. You're safe, come on, calm down. I'm here with you, you're gonna be okay. Come on, Sam, come back to me," Josh said. Sam nodded. Slowly but surely, his breathing began to normalize.

"Hey, Sam. Where are you? Can you tell me where you are?" Josh said. C.J. had never heard him speak so gently before, not even to Mandy or Donna. It scared her almost as much as the shaking.

"Th-the White House?" Sam answered.

"Yeah, that's right. Where in the White House?"

"The West Wing."

"You gotta give me more than that, Sam."

"C- C.J.- C.J.'s office." The shaking stopped. C.J. let out a breath she hadn't noticed she was holding. Thank God. Thank Josh.

"Good, Sam, good." Sam sat up. He looked at Josh, then turned to see C.J. He seemed embarrassed, but tried to play it off. That was normal Sam.

"Sorry. I- that happens. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Sam. Go get a bagel or something. That helps, right?" Josh said. Sam nodded. He stood up somewhat unsteadily. Josh straightened to help him, but Josh was waved off.

"You're okay, right, Sam?" C.J. asked. Sam nodded.

"Yeah. It's nothing. The picture, too. Don't worry about it." Sam walked out, still affecting casualness. Josh leaned against the desk and blew a breath out of his nose. The encounter seemed to have taken something out of him.

"What was that?" C.J. said, turning her gaze on Josh.

"A panic attack, or something like it," Josh said nonchalantly. "They happen every once in a while, but they're nothing serious. I can snap him out of it."

"Panic attack?" C.J. repeated. "Does Leo know?"

"I told Leo. But they only happen like once in a blue moon, they're not a big deal."

"A member of the Senior Staff has panic attacks and you don't think it's a big deal?" C.J. said incredulously. Was he completely stupid? "What if that happened in front of people? The President? The Press? What causes them anyway?" Josh shrugged.

"I don't know." C.J. nearly had a heart attack. Holy crap, how stupid was this man?

"You don't know?" she said.

"No. I never asked."

"So you just let him walk around, knowing he could have one of these…attacks, and you don't know what would set him off?" C.J. said.

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds awful. But these almost never happen!" Josh replied. "This is the first since the campaign, and even that one was pretty early on! They're clearly not triggered by stress, and he always manages to get away from people before it gets like that! I'm not completely irresponsible!"

"Josh, I was trying to get answers on a photo of him and some guy when it started! That makes it look even worse than it did when he wouldn't answer me!" C.J. said.

"Wait, what guy? What picture?" Josh asked. C.J. pointed to her desk, unable to speak. Josh found it and frowned.

"I…have never seen this guy in my life. Who is he, some sort of model for dweebs? Grown men should not be wearing sweater-vests."

"That's really your biggest issue with the picture?" C.J. said.

"No…but it had to be said," Josh replied. "What did Sam say about him?"

"Sam said he was lecturing and they just met. It's nothing, or so Sam says."

"Nothing?" Josh repeated. "The guy is holding Sam's hand. Sam looks like he's just been saved from the monster under his bed."

"Sam wouldn't tell me what they were talking about. He said he got upset and John Doe was just 'helping'." C.J. sat at her desk again. "Every reporter in my Press Room will have this by tomorrow. I need answers." Josh dropped the photo on the desk.

"If Sam won't give 'em to you, there's nothing I can do. Sorry, C.J." He walked away, as if that settled the matter. C.J. could only stare after him. She shuddered to think of what would happen when he ran the country…

Senior Staff that afternoon was…tense. Josh came in early to tell Leo Sam had an episode in front of C.J. When Leo pressed for answers, Josh didn't have them, which was disturbing, but no more than usual. Sam entered with Toby shortly afterwards. He was trying to look normal, but as soon as C.J. came in, Leo saw Sam bite his lip. The two eyed each other the whole time, every awkward minute. Josh attempted to ignore it, failing rather miserably. Leo said nothing about the incredibly painful exchange. Toby didn't notice, or he was ignoring it better than Josh and Leo. Finally, the men cleared out. C.J. hesitated.

"Something on your mind, C.J.?" Leo asked.

"Leo, about Sam…"

"Josh told me about the panic attack."

"Did he tell you what happened before it?" C.J. said. Leo stopped. Josh hadn't. Perhaps C.J. had noticed something Josh hadn't, some womanly intuition finally pinpointing Sam's trigger.

"No. Why?" C.J. took a piece of paper from her folders. Leo accepted it. Sam and a guy, nothing terrible…wait a second.

"Who the hell is this?" he said. "Why-"

"His name is Dr. Spencer Reid. I had a friend at the FBI look him up," C.J. said. "He had a lecture a few weeks ago at American University. Sam stopped in and they got coffee…which is when this photo was taken. I tried to ask Sam about it, and he wouldn't answer me. When I got loud, he had the panic attack." C.J. took a deep breath. "There's something weird going on here, Leo. I don't know what it is, but I think we need to know before my next briefing."

"You're right. Get Dr. Reid in here, but don't tell him why," Leo said, handing the picture back. "We'll both meet him. If we can't get answers out of him between the two of us, we'll have Ron Butterfield deal with him."

This isn't good, Reid decided. This was turning into more than he expected it to be, more than just one man who needed someone to understand. Reid knew Sam was well-known; two girls had asked for his autograph in the coffee shop. What Reid didn't know was that Sam worked for the President, and now Reid was in the White House, waiting to be interrogated by the Chief of Staff and the Press Secretary about his newly-acquired information on their colleague. Miss Cregg hadn't actually said why he was here. Reid knew, though. He saw Sam in the hallway for just a moment, Miss Cregg hurrying him away before Sam spotted them. Reid put together all the pieces as they waited, save a few: how did they know he knew? Sam obviously hadn't told them, or he would have explained it away. Reid wouldn't tell anyone what he knew. Why did they think he would? Did they not trust him? Did they have some vast conspiracy to keep this information out of circulation?

"He's ready for you," the nervous redhead said, coming out of the office. Miss Cregg nodded and led Reid inside. He wasn't sure what he expected of the Chief of Staff, but it wasn't the shorter old man behind the desk. This guy looked like a grandpa, not the second most powerful man in the country.

"Ah, Dr. Reid. Thanks for coming," he said. "I'm Leo McGarry, White House Chief of Staff."

"Hi," Reid said, waving. Mr. McGarry looked at him curiously, but decided against shaking his hand. That was good; Reid wasn't big on hand-shaking.

"Let's have a seat, shall we?" Mr. McGarry said. He gestured at the desk and the chairs in front of it. Reid took the proffered seat, and Mr. McGarry sat behind the desk, but Miss Cregg remained standing. One look at the situation was all Reid needed to know they wanted to intimidate him. Reid wasn't big on intimidation either.

"Mr. McGarry, I'm not sure why I'm here. Maybe you could enlighten me?" he began. Mr. McGarry looked at Miss Cregg, who put a photo on the desk. It was Sam and Reid in the coffee shop. Reid was holding Sam's hand, so it must have been when Reid was giving Sam his support. Reid turned his gaze up to Mr. McGarry. Okay, why the photo?

"We'd like you to enlighten us about what's going on in this picture," the old man said. Reid shrugged.

"Sam and I went for coffee after he attended my lecture. I was trying to make him feel better after he got upset, which is completely understandable given the circumstances-"

"What circumstances?" Miss Cregg interrupted. Reid looked up at her, then back at Mr. McGarry. Something in their eyes was inquisitive, the set of their mouths was confused, and suddenly it dawned on Reid. Oh…

"You…don't know?"

"Don't know what?" Mr. McGarry said. "What happened at the lecture?" Reid shook his head. Crap, they weren't trying to intimidate him into being quiet, they wanted him to share this with them. It wasn't his story to tell, though, it was Sam's, and if Sam hadn't told them-

"Nothing happened at the lecture. The subject matter was…upsetting and I went into more detail for Sam, and it unnerved him, which isn't uncommon, many people react poorly to it," Reid said quickly. Too quickly, judging by the deepening frown on Mr. McGarry's face. Damn it.

"Your lecture was about sex offenders, wasn't it?" Miss Cregg said.

"Child molesters, actually," Reid said. A look of distaste passed over the tall woman's face. "Exactly my point. I should really be going-"

"Not so fast. Doctor," Mr. McGarry interrupted. "There's more to this story. Did you know Sam has occasional panic attacks?" Reid stopped. That was not uncommon for this situation, but Sam hadn't mentioned them.

"No, I didn't. Why?" he said slowly.

"Coz he had one when C.J. talked to him about this picture," Mr. McGarry answered. He leaned forward. "Tell me, Dr. Reid, why did Sam have that attack today? What's in the story the two of you haven't told us?" Mr. McGarry's eyes bored into Reid's. Reid imagined this worked fairly well on most occasions. But Reid wouldn't give up Sam. He couldn't. He returned Mr. McGarry's stare and took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I can't answer those questions. If there's nothing else you want, I'll be leaving now." Reid stood and turned to walk out. Mr. McGarry also stood. Reid wondered if the Chief of Staff had any pull with the FBI, and if his temper was easily sparked.

"Now, you wait one minute, 'Doctor', you're not-" The door next to Leo's desk opened. Reid pivoted to see the President leaning in. Uh-oh.

"Leo, I need to borrow you a minute. Can- who's this?" he said, catching sight of Reid. Miss Cregg opened her mouth to say something, but the other door opened. Everyone's attention moved as Sam entered. Crap…

"Leo, I have the-" Sam froze when he saw Reid. A shard of fear sliced into his blue eyes and he dropped the pile of papers as he saw the three standing behind Reid. Sam's hands started to shake. A panic attack, Reid decided, like Mr. McGarry had said. Reid swooped over and grabbed the other man by the shoulders. Physical contact wasn't always a good idea, but it would get Sam's attention away from the others. Sam's hands clung to Reid's forearms like a life preserver, so tight it would have hurt if Reid cared at the moment.

"Sam, it's okay," Reid said. Sam was still watching the President. Figures of authority and role models would only increase the anxiety, thus worsening the attack. "Sam, look at me, not them." Sam did, starting to hyperventilate. Reid kept his gaze steady and level. A calm presence, one that could hold the victim's attention and project safety, was the best response to an attack. "Just look at me, Sam. I didn't say anything. Look at me, not them." Sam nodded and tried to pull himself together. If Reid could just keep Sam focused on him, this would subside-

"What's going on here? Who is that?" the President demanded, derailing Reid's train of thought. Sam's breathing quickened. "What's wrong with Sam?"

"That's what we're trying to find out, Mr. President," Miss Cregg said quietly. Sam heard, though, and it was making it harder. The shaking was getting worse and his grip on Reid was tightening.

"Dr. Reid, you clearly know what this is-" Reid turned his head to glare at the Chief of Staff. The old man was taken aback for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, but the doctor cut him off.

"Will you stop?' Reid snapped. "You're making him do this! He doesn't need you prying into him like a treasure chest! Can't you people just do your jobs without getting into other people's business?"

"Reid," Sam said. Reid whirled back. Sam's eyes were wide. "Reid, you can't… you can't shout at the President…" The shaking was getting even worse. Reid broke Sam's grip on one arm to face Mr. McGarry again. Reid very rarely got upset like this, but these people just didn't understand how they were negatively affecting the situation. He had to calm himself before he spoke.

"I can fix this," Reid said. "I'm going to take Sam to his office and then he'll decide what he's going to tell you. It isn't me who gets to do that. It's Sam." Reid pulled Sam out of the office before anyone could argue. Sam composed himself enough to get them through the halls and direct Reid to his office. When they got there, he grabbed an Asian woman and said:

"If anyone asks, I'm with Leo." She nodded, slightly unnerved by Sam's expression. Sam and Reid got into his office. Sam sat on the floor. The panic took over, the realization that he would have to tell his colleagues kicked in, and Sam broke. Reid knelt in front of him, trying to be soothing. He had never been very good at that sort of thing. Sam had continually made it seem like he was.

"I can't tell them," Sam whispered. "I can't…"

"They're your friends. They just want to help," Reid replied.

"What if they…what if they don't…"

"They'll understand. Whatever you choose to tell them, I'll be right there to help explain it," Reid promised. Sam buried his face in his arms, shaking.

"Sam, it's going to be fine," Reid said softly. "You told me, remember? You told me everything. I didn't walk away, even though I didn't know you very well. If I was your friend through it, then your friends will stay with you, too. You told me they're like family."

"Never told my family," Sam muttered.

"I know. It's hard to tell your family these things. Harder than a therapist, harder than a guy at lecture who does this for a living," Reid said. Sam let out a choked laugh.

"They're gonna think I'm crazy for telling you. Josh is gonna kill me."

"And I'll tell them why you're not. I'll explain why you're so sensitive right now, too. We brought up all the bad memories, and that's not easy for you," Reid said. "You're not crazy, Sam. I know crazy."

"You chase crazy," Sam murmured. Reid smiled as Sam lifted his head to show off his own weak grin.

Toby shook his head, trying to sort and comprehend all this new information. All the emotion in his colleagues wasn't making it any easier. Toby was extremely adept at reading the others, more than his abrasive personality would suggest, and he had to cut through it to reach his own conclusions.

"Since when does Sam have panic attacks?" he asked.

"Since I met him," Josh replied, almost begging for a sarcastic comment connecting the two. "C.J. causing them is an _entirely new development_, thanks, C.J." Josh sent an accusatory glower at the woman in question, who immediately tried to defend herself.

"Come on, Josh! I told you I needed answers! I had to bring the guy in so I could figure out how to run with this," C.J. argued. She was trying to assuage her own guilt as well as fight Josh with that statement. C.J. considered the men her brothers, and in her eyes Sam was the baby brother she had to protect more than the other two.

"What guy?" Toby said. "The one in the picture?" Leo nodded, looking grim. He felt guilty too, but more than that he was afraid of what this meant. Leo was, not for the first time, more concerned about the implications than Sam. It wasn't on purpose. It was just Leo's thought process. Still, Toby was slightly annoyed.

"Dr. Spencer Reid," Leo said. "He said he couldn't tell us anything. It has to be Sam who tells us."

"What I don't understand is why Sam has these episodes," Bartlet said. Apart from Toby, he seemed to be the most concerned about the reason Sam broke into panic attacks. This wasn't new either; Bartlet seemed to consider Sam the son he didn't have, Sam and Charlie. Josh was clearly Leo's favorite, and Sam was the President's. "Josh says they're not stress-related, but Sam had one when he was pressured-"

"By C.J.," Josh supplied. C.J. glared at him.

"Pressured on the subject of Dr. Reid is what I was going to say," Bartlet continued. "Although C.J. is another common factor, I don't think she is actually responsible."

"Yes, I doubt Sam's episodes are caused by intimidating women," Leo agreed.

"Thank you!" C.J. said. Toby shook his head. He was getting a bad feeling about all of this. He felt compelled to remind everyone how truly unaware they were.

"Considering I didn't know about these attacks until five minutes ago, the President didn't know until thirty minutes ago and C.J. found out two hours ago, I'm not sure any of us should be postulating on what causes them," Toby pointed out. "Except for Josh, who appears to be personally offended by this whole thing."

"I am! I think we should leave Sam alone!" Josh said. "Yeah, he has occasional panic attacks. Yeah, he was photographed with this Dr. Reid guy. So what?"

"Josh, he had two attacks in the same day! Within two hours of each other!" C.J. replied. "This is bad! If the Press gets a hold of this and I don't have answers, it's gonna look like the White House is trying to cover up another illness!" The President cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Mr. President."

"I think we should be more worried about what causes these attacks," Bartlet said. Josh shook his head.

"If C.J. had just left him alone, they wouldn't have happened-"

"And we'd have a circulating story that the White House is trying to cover up the fact that Sam is gay. That's not much better, Josh," Leo interrupted. "We need to know how to handle this."

"We could have just played it off like they were old friends. It's not entirely unreasonable that they were old friends talking about some sad event in their past, is it?" Josh said.

"Josh does have a point. That could work," Toby said. "That could be what we may have to do."

"What are you saying, Toby?" Bartlet asked. The spotlight was on Toby now and he almost laughed. Were they all that naïve? Did they really think there was a neat little explanation that would make all this better? That they would all forget about it in an hour or two?

"I'm saying panic attacks develop for a reason," Toby began. "Most of the people who have panic attacks have anxiety disorders, like agoraphobia, but we know Sam doesn't have one. That'd be in his medical files, which Leo and the President have reviewed. He also doesn't have a panic disorder, which would have more symptoms."

"What, are you a psychology professor now?" Josh said. Leo waved to shut him up.

"Keep going, Toby. What's left then?"

"Panic attacks often accompany PTSD. Josh has had episodes; who's to say that's not what these panic attacks are?" Toby said. Everyone looked vaguely uncomfortable, especially Josh, who didn't want to think his best friend had been suffering and he hadn't noticed.

"But Sam's been having them for years. Rosslyn didn't trigger them," C.J. said.

"Because we were all paying such close attention after Rosslyn," Toby replied. They winced. "But you're right. Josh says these have been going on a long time. If something happened to Sam when he was a kid, he probably wouldn't tell us."

"Considering it took him two weeks to tell anybody about the woman in Santa Monica, that's not entirely unreasonable," Bartlet agreed. There was a knock on the door.

"Yeah?" Leo called. Margaret stuck her head in.

"Sam and Dr. Reid are here." The room tensed. Moment of truth, Toby thought. Time to find out if he was right…which he was, nine times out of ten. Please let it be the tenth…

"Send 'em in." Margaret nodded. She disappeared. Sam and Dr. Reid entered, Dr. Reid slightly behind Sam. Sam bit his lip when he saw the Senior Staff and the President gathered in front of him. Dr. Reid glanced around, assessing them for the threat they posed…this wasn't right. He was the stranger, he was the one they should be sizing up to see if he would hurt Sam, not him to them.

"Mr. President," Sam said softly. Bartlet nodded, face set against the pain that may come. To Sam, it must have looked like sternness, punishment, because his teeth held the lip even more firmly as the President replied:

"Sam."

"This is Dr. Spencer Reid. He's…a friend. We met a few weeks ago, at his lecture for American University. Afterwards, we got coffee, which is why C.J. got that picture," Sam said. Toby noticed the hesitation and liked this even less. Sam always had a label, a word to go with everything. The lack of it meant nothing good.

"I see. What was this lecture about?" Bartlet asked. Sam shifted uncomfortably. Dr. Reid was watching, ready to…what? He seemed ready to step in at a moment's notice, but to do what? Take the floor? Take the blame? Take the hurt from Sam's eyes, the hurt that even now was ripping holes in everyone here?

"Sex offenders, sir. Dr. Reid is an expert in psychological crime, including sexualized serial killers."

"That's a hell of a topic to just happen upon," Bartlet commented. Sam looked at the floor.

"I didn't." The words were quiet, but to Toby, they landed like an atom bomb. Oh, no. Not this, anything but this.

"Excuse me?"

"I didn't just happen upon it, sir," Sam said again, looking up. His face was etched with shame and pain, and Toby's dread was turning cold in his throat. Please let this be fake, a story, a prank. "I…just said that to C.J. because the truth is…the truth is I rescheduled my meeting with Olausen for later to go to the lecture. He wanted to have lunch with his daughter, so he didn't mind." Dr. Reid's eyebrows went up. Something clicked in his eyes, a bad click.

"And why did you want to go this lecture on sex offenders?" Bartlet said, voice very hesitant. Sam looked at Dr. Reid , who put a hand on his shoulder. Toby noticed suddenly how very young Dr. Reid was, despite being a few inches taller than Sam. He couldn't have been older than twenty-three, yet he seemed to be the only one in the room who knew how to handle this. It was almost comical. The youngest person in the room had the most knowledge, the best tools, and the steadiest hand. He wasn't the problem, Toby decided, he was the solution. He was helping, unlike the others had decided. Dr. Reid was doing what they couldn't: putting Sam before his own emotions for the man…which Toby would bet he had in plenty, should the doctor care to plunge into that predicament.

"The lecture wasn't on sex offenders in general. It was about…child molestation, Mr. President," Sam answered. The change in the room was instant, Toby's fleeting moment of humor vanished. Everyone was intensely still, as if moving would cause them all to shatter.

"Sam," Josh said finally. "Tell me you…tell me that's not why you have the attacks. Tell me nobody…touched you like that." Sam shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Josh. I can't." They shattered. Leo dropped into his desk chair; Josh collapsed onto the couch, unable to stand; C.J. covered her mouth, fighting the horror trying to leak out; the President deflated in his seat, head dropping to look at the ground. Toby remained very still. Inside, he roiled with anger, wanting to seek out vengeance for the deputy he had come to think of like a brother. But first-

"Who was it?" he said. Sam looked at him in surprise.

"What?"

"I need to know who did this to you so I can hunt them down and kill them," Toby replied calmly. Dr. Reid arched his eyebrows again, but said nothing. He seemed to approve.

"It's a little late for that," Sam said, a sad ghost of his smile flashing. "She died a few months ago."

"She?" C.J. repeated, the color draining from her face. Leo's earlier comment replayed in Toby's mind: '_I doubt Sam's episodes are caused by intimidating women_.'

"Women do this too?" Bartlet said.

"Females account for up to four percent of the convicted sex offenders in the country, Mr. President," Dr. Reid answered, his young voice filling the defeated quiet with solid fact. "There's believed to be a ten-to-one male-to-female ratio specifically in the case of child molesters, sir."

"Who was she?" Toby asked again.

"Her name was Helen. She was my godmother," Sam said. "She and my mom had been friends since kindergarten." Toby winced. The irony…

"Do your parents know?" Leo said. Sam shook his head.

"I didn't tell anyone for the longest time. When I went to college, they had a confidential therapist you could just go see and no one had to know…he recommended me to another one, and I started seeing him as soon as I had my own health insurance. Then I just…didn't tell anyone again. Until the lecture." Sam looked at Dr. Reid. "I didn't mean to tell him. It was an accident."

"You told a complete stranger but not us?" Josh demanded, standing up. Sam flinched. Josh backed down, but only slightly. Dr. Reid's deep brown eyes flashed dangerously. "Seriously, Sam, we're your friends! You couldn't tell us?"

"That's completely normal," Dr. Reid replied, stepping forward. "Child molesters use shame and fear to keep their victims from telling anyone what they've done. Helen was no exception." He glared at Josh, who glared right back. Toby couldn't believe this kid had the gonads to enter a glare-off with Josh, let alone with Leo as C.J. had claimed.

"Sam, if this is true, doesn't…talking about it make you…relive the experience?" Bartlet asked, cutting into the exchange. The two men appeared to be unaware of it, aside from Dr. Reid's hand tightening imperceptibly on Sam."Wouldn't going to this lecture theoretically make you…upset?"

"Yes, Mr. President, theoretically it would. And it did," Sam replied. "But I wanted to know…I had to know if there was anyone else who felt like me. That what I feel is normal. My therapist told me those things, but I wanted to hear them from an expert who didn't know me."

"And Dr. Reid is your expert?" Toby said.

"Yeah. I didn't even say much to him and he knew… he just knew why I was there." The focus turned back to Dr. Reid, who was still not quivering under the dark power of Josh's eyes. In fact, Josh looked closer to quivering than Dr. Reid. Leo made sure they never found out who would win when he spoke.

"What about the attacks?" Leo asked. "Do they have anything to do with this?" The two men broke eye contact simultaneously. Dr. Reid looked at Sam, who crossed his arms over his chest. Dr. Reid's hand did not move from Sam's shoulder.

"The panic attacks are a result, yes," the younger man said. "From what Sam's told me, he has them mostly when he's reminded of Helen, or when he thinks someone's found out. Because he's been recalling all of this, the memories are closer to his conscious mind and it makes him more vulnerable to attacks. There's also the fact that Sam considers you like family. It's very difficult for victims to admit this happened to anyone, doubly so for family members. Telling you is probably one of the hardest things he's had to do." Toby nodded. He couldn't help feeling slightly better knowing Sam considered them family. Leo, on the other hand, did not seem so satisfied. He scrutinized Dr. Reid.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-four, sir." Well, Toby was a little off in his estimate. That was understandable, given that the doctor could probably walk through a high school and not look out of place.

"And what is your doctorate in?" Leo said, doubt creeping into his question.

"I have three doctorates," Dr. Reid replied evenly.

"Three?" Leo repeated. "That's very impressive for twenty-four. What are they in?"

"Chemistry, Physics, and Engineering. I also have a BA in Psychology."

"So what makes you an expert?" Josh asked. Dr. Reid turned the glare back on him.

"Because I study and catch people like Helen as my job. I've studied psychosis since I was twelve and it's my job to know everything there is to know about these people. Your job, apparently, is to be as aggravating and antagonistic as-"

"That's enough, Reid," Sam said. Dr. Reid turned to him, looking even younger as he adopted a petulant expression.

"He started it."

"And I'm ending it. Unless you'd like to tell Hotch why you were thrown out of the White House," Sam said. Dr. Reid huffed and finally retracted his hand. Josh smirked a little bit and Sam gave him a look. "Don't even, Josh. It was totally instigated on your part."

"Was not," Josh argued.

"Was too."

"Was not!"

"That's enough!" Toby said, standing in between Sam and Josh. "God, you two drive me crazy. Anyway, all in favor of my plan?"

"Your plan? What's your plan?" Sam asked.

"It's a good plan. It's my plan," Toby replied. "You and Reid are good friends, and you met on the anniversary of a mutual girlfriend's death. That's where the picture came from."

"You're just going to lie? Blatantly?" Dr. Reid said. Petulance gave way to shock. Had this kid ever watched the news?

"Do you think the country needs to know the truth?" Toby countered. Dr. Reid paused.

"Well, no…"

"That's what I thought. Besides, you don't get a vote. You don't work here. All in favor of my plan, please say aye."

"Aye," Leo said.

"Aye," C.J. said.

"Aye," Bartlet said.

"Aye," Josh said grumpily.

"Aye," Sam echoed, offering a weak but grateful smile.

"That makes it unanimous. C.J. will have this all fixed tomorrow morning, and everything will go back to normal," Toby said. He turned to Leo. "See, if everyone agrees with me, the world is much better for it."

"Thank you, Toby," Leo said with a smile. "I guess that it's then, unless anyone else has something they'd like to get off their chests."

"I'm getting back to work," Josh declared. He exchanged one last glower with Dr. Reid and stormed away, but not before squeezing Sam's shoulder. The President stood and walked over to Sam.

"I'm glad things are better, Sam. Thanks for telling us."

"Yes, Mr. President." Bartlet clapped Sam on the shoulder and exited to the Oval. C.J. went up to Sam.

"I'm sorry," she said. "For…getting on your case about this." She gave him an imploring look, clearly afraid to say anymore.

"It's your job," Sam replied, shrugging. "I should have been straight with you. It's my fault too."

"Not really, Sam-shine," C.J. said. After a moment's hesitation, she hugged Sam. Toby walked to Dr. Reid, who was slightly surprised when Toby tapped him on the shoulder.

"If anyone else lays a finger on him and he doesn't tell me, you will, understand?" he said. "You don't have any doctor confidentiality bullcrap. He gets hurt and I hear about it, got it?"

"Okay. I don't actually know your name…" Toby handed Dr. Reid his card. Dr. Reid put it in his messenger bag. C.J. left and Sam turned to them.

"Reid, you probably need to get back to work," he said. Dr. Reid shrugged.

"There's nothing urgent. I can stay if you want."

"I'm fine, thanks. Come on, I'll walk you out."

"Okay." Sam looked at Leo, who nodded. The two younger men walked out. Toby waited until they were away, then turned to Leo. He sighed.

"Leo-"

"I saw it too."

"What do we do?"

"Nothing, for now."

Sam was sent home shortly after all of this. Toby was the one to force him out, strangely enough. He insisted that Sam was distracting him. Toby wouldn't say how exactly Sam was distracting him, saying things like 'you're too happy' or 'I hate people from California.' Eventually Sam just gave up and left.

Earlier, Reid and Sam had agreed that this was probably going to bother Sam later. Reid offered his apartment, but Sam invited him over instead; Sam's apartment was bigger and neither man would have to sleep on a couch there. Sam let Reid know he was on his way out. Reid, despite Sam's usual reply that he didn't have to, met Sam there.

They walked up together, talking about the takeout Sam had brought with him. Reid had a weakness for rice, even though chopsticks were beyond him. He would always try them and Sam would laugh every time. This time, Reid gave up and threw grains at Sam. Sam was shocked for a second, but he recovered to toss noodles back. He briefly reflected that his friends would call them immature. Sam liked being immature. He wondered what Reid's friends would say.

"Morgan would squirt me with soy sauce if he were here," Reid said, pulling noodles out of his hair.

"Luckily for your laundry, I am much less aggressive than Morgan," Sam replied.

"Very lucky. I suck at doing laundry."

"Ah, you'll figure it out eventually. I did, only I was a little older."

"Everyone is older than me, Sam. Everyone," Reid said.

"Charlie isn't."

"I haven't met Charlie, so he doesn't count." Sam laughed. Reid smiled, and Sam didn't miss the relief in the younger man's eyes. He knew Reid was upset by the events of today, probably more than Sam. Sam felt mostly lightened, as if telling his friends had taken a burden from his shoulders. Reid, on the other hand, had taken the brunt of the anger and hurt spewing in the room. And Sam was fairly certain he'd done it on purpose.

"Reid, I gotta say thanks. You went above and beyond today," Sam said softly.

"Don't worry about it," Reid replied. The laugh faded from both of them as they came back to the scene in Leo's office.

"Reid, I was a mess. I would never have been able to do that myself."

"Yes, you would have. I just made it a little easier."

"A hell of a lot easier," Sam insisted.

"Sam," Reid said, shaking his head. "All I did was hold on to you and shore you up."

"That's more than I've ever had," Sam said. Reid frowned.

"Sam, have you ever heard of transference?"

"Yeah. It's when you shift your emotions to a place where they don't belong, right?"

"…Kinda. Your friends are doing a little of that right now, which was my biggest concern for you telling them. I thought they might transfer to you, and that would be very bad for all of you," Reid said. "Luckily, I sort of took that transference. They're mad at me, instead of resenting you. That's much better."

"How? You're the best thing that's happened to me in this whole mess," Sam said. Reid looked down at the noodles at the edge of his plate.

"I've certainly helped, and I'm glad I could, but…sometimes I wonder if that's clouding your judgment of me. It seems like we're getting along now. I just can't help thinking maybe there's more transference than camaraderie." His voice dropped with the last sentence. Sam paused.

"I guess anything I say now might be result of that too?" he said. Reid nodded. "Well. That certainly makes things awkward…how do we know it's not transference?"

"If it is, your positive feelings toward me will fade and we won't be friends," Reid said in a small voice.

"How long?"

"I don't know."

"Well, since we met almost a month ago, shouldn't they have faded by now?" Sam asked. Reid shook his head.

"I don't know. Psychology isn't an exact science."

"No such thing, Reid," Sam replied. Reid smiled. "You know what, I don't think it's transference. When I don't like someone, I know it from the start, no matter how much they help me. When I meet a friend, I know it. Those things don't change for me. They never have. So let's assume this isn't transference. Let's just believe we really are friends."

"You sure?"

"Of course I am," Sam said. Reid's smile got a little wider.

"Did you know that friendship increases your life expectancy?" he said.

"Really?"

"It does! People who have good friends and socialize often live five to ten years longer than people who don't. There was a study last year…"

_I can't believe I let this happen. _

_I know better, or at least I should, right? I'm not stupid. Far from it, actually. I'm a responsible adult. I'm a good friend. I am NOT the guy who gets drunk and sleeps with the only person in the world I trust completely who could be absolutely devastated by the impact it has. Right?_

_Unfortunately, judging by this series of events, it turns out I am stupid…_

_I'm having a little bit of a hectic time._

_You see, there's this guy. He's a great guy. My favorite guy. I'm fairly certain I'm a little bit in love with this guy. He's not convinced. Anyway, we get drunk together. Maybe this wasn't a good idea, but it was just a generally bad day for us both. The next morning, I wake up naked on the floor of my apartment with a wicked hangover and the smell of him on my shed clothing._

_Before we get a chance to talk, he gets called out to California for a week. He gets back, I go to meet him, there's a bit of a problem…_

The BAU was in Sacramento, waiting for Garcia to pinpoint their unsub's location. While Reid had the five minutes, he checked his phone. He found a missed call from Sam. Reid called back, keeping an eye on his teammates. He caught Sam at an okay time. They both had the same five minutes to spare and had a quick light conversation. Sam was chuckling as the BAU started to move.

"God, I love you," he said. Reid's jaw dropped and he couldn't find the words, or any words for that matter. Sam started floundering. "I mean I- Reid, I-"

"We got him. Let's go," Hotch said. Reid's mind went into autopilot. He moved to follow Hotch.

"I have to go, Sam. I'll call you when I get back."

"Reid, I-"

"There's actually something, Sam, I'm not trying to avoid it. I promise, we'll talk." Reid hung up. He sighed and went t the car with Rossi.

"Nervous girlfriend?" Rossi asked. Reid shook his head. They got in the car and Reid tried to block the confusing feelings blossoming in his mind. He could worry about this after they caught the unsub.


End file.
